Coincidence or providence
Dec. 29th, 2003 01:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
uberreinigerAnd so the weekend perishes. Had a helluva feast with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
megiloth, yaqui and their friend Shane, who, if he has an LJ, I am not aware of its existence. Much food was commested. Many species of domesitcated livestock were grilled and eaten, potted ham that was the ambrosia of the gods despite its gelatinous texture and penislike coloring, real, honest-to-heyzuess caviar, cheeses of bizarre aroma yet divine taste, fine brandy to mix with base, vulgar soft drinks, and enough chips and salsa to make even the most experienced crew of gourmands retch - which it very nearly did. We all have mad cow now. We are going to die. After the Bosch-like bacchanalia had concluded, we went out for a relaxing game of billiards. (That means pool for you non-high-fallutin' types.) Lesley and Dean happened to be playing pool there when we arrived and our two groups merged into one. The guys all thought I was successfully picking a hot babe up until they found out I already knew her. Next time I'll be sure not to shatter such precious delusions :D Fun was had, it was driven home that slop-rules in pool are a wonderful thing, and Lesley seemed to have a religious experiece over megiloth's tattoos. It was, quite simply, a swell night on the town. The only drawback was it left me too tired to go up and check on Melissa's cats, so by today when I did get there I damn near needed an oxygen mask while shovelling the litter box. If Melissa really wanted to, I'm sure she could open up her own ammonia factory and retire comfortably by the age of thirty-five.
On a more serious note, I seem to keep meeting people with diabetes - far more than I should for knowing no more people than I know. Convinced that God is trying to tell me something, I have resolved today to actually give a damn about what I eat. I've started exercising again and have decided to make a few very simple changes I should make anyway. (Not having french fries and soda with every meal, for example.) I'm as anti-Adkins Diet as ever - except in the case of people with a good medical reason - but I figure a little moderation can't hurt. Besides, I've already got bad acid reflux disease, corns on my feet, and skin prone to developing painful cysts. I'd like to make it to at least the age of forty before developing another fucking health problem.
And forty's nothing to joke about. They start checking your prostate then, dude.
megiloth, yaqui and their friend Shane, who, if he has an LJ, I am not aware of its existence. Much food was commested. Many species of domesitcated livestock were grilled and eaten, potted ham that was the ambrosia of the gods despite its gelatinous texture and penislike coloring, real, honest-to-heyzuess caviar, cheeses of bizarre aroma yet divine taste, fine brandy to mix with base, vulgar soft drinks, and enough chips and salsa to make even the most experienced crew of gourmands retch - which it very nearly did. We all have mad cow now. We are going to die. After the Bosch-like bacchanalia had concluded, we went out for a relaxing game of billiards. (That means pool for you non-high-fallutin' types.) Lesley and Dean happened to be playing pool there when we arrived and our two groups merged into one. The guys all thought I was successfully picking a hot babe up until they found out I already knew her. Next time I'll be sure not to shatter such precious delusions :D Fun was had, it was driven home that slop-rules in pool are a wonderful thing, and Lesley seemed to have a religious experiece over megiloth's tattoos. It was, quite simply, a swell night on the town. The only drawback was it left me too tired to go up and check on Melissa's cats, so by today when I did get there I damn near needed an oxygen mask while shovelling the litter box. If Melissa really wanted to, I'm sure she could open up her own ammonia factory and retire comfortably by the age of thirty-five.On a more serious note, I seem to keep meeting people with diabetes - far more than I should for knowing no more people than I know. Convinced that God is trying to tell me something, I have resolved today to actually give a damn about what I eat. I've started exercising again and have decided to make a few very simple changes I should make anyway. (Not having french fries and soda with every meal, for example.) I'm as anti-Adkins Diet as ever - except in the case of people with a good medical reason - but I figure a little moderation can't hurt. Besides, I've already got bad acid reflux disease, corns on my feet, and skin prone to developing painful cysts. I'd like to make it to at least the age of forty before developing another fucking health problem.
And forty's nothing to joke about. They start checking your prostate then, dude.
